


No One Needs To Know

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:12:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke had been looking forward to her senior prom all year.</p><p>But this definitely wasn't what she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> An anon requested Bellamy and Clarke both get ditched by their prom dates so they decide to dance with each other because 'hey, I may hate you but I love this song'. 
> 
> And then it spiraled completely out of control.

Clarke stopped at the doorway to the gym to watch her friends laughing and dancing.  The decorations were classy but fun, the music was on point, and everyone was having a blast.

In short, her senior prom was perfect in every way, except for the biggest one: she didn’t have a date.

Really, Clarke would have been fine going solo if it wasn’t for the extenuating circumstances.  Plenty of her friends went without dates, and she wasn’t _so_ into the Antiquated Mating Ritual, as _he_ so eloquently put it, that she thought she needed a date for it to be perfect.  And she had had a date, right up until yesterday.

Clarke still couldn’t believe that Finn had strung her along for months, promising to take her to prom when he’d already promised to take his _other_ girlfriend to hers.  The one flaw in his plan was the STEM Magnet school his _real_ girlfriend attended happened to schedule their prom the same night as hers, and he’d panicked and thought he could somehow do both until last night, when he called and confessed everything to Clarke.

And like an idiot, Clarke had _comforted_ him.  She hated seeing him in pain, even though finding out that not only was she the other woman, she’d be dateless to prom and have to explain that to everyone hurt so much it was hard to breathe.  She had promised Finn she didn’t hate him and _gave him her blessing_ to take Raven to her prom. Clarke’s stomach curdled at the reminder and she pretended she didn’t see Harper waving her over.

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe and darted around the edges of the gym to the emergency exit.  Kane had propped it open to get a little air in the stuffy gymnasium an hour ago, but he was lurking right next to it like a bouncer at a club to make sure no one snuck out to get a flask from their car.  But having your mother’s boyfriend as your AP Government teacher had its perks along with its faults, and Kane took one look at her face and stepped aside.

It was pleasantly cool out behind the gym, the breeze caressing her flushed cheeks, and she didn’t even mind the dumpsters ten yards away, because no one was looking at her with pity.  She’d lied and said Finn had the stomach flu, but from the secretive looks people were throwing at her, she figured someone had known or guessed the truth.

“Running away, princess?” Bellamy’s sarcastic voice interrupted her self-pity, replacing it with anger.

“Just getting some air,” she said icily and turned to face him.  She crossed her arms over her purple satin dress, ready for battle.

“Where’s Boyband?”  Bellamy asked, cocking his head to the side.  He always did that in AP Gov, whenever he was about to challenge her to an argument.  He was insufferable, that was for sure, always baiting her into defending positions she didn’t actually want to defend, just because she couldn’t let him win a fight.  What was worse was the fact that Kane seemed to _like_ him.  She felt her almost-step-father owed her more loyalty than that, but when she told him so at dinner a month ago he’d just laughed and said he never wanted his students to become complacent.

 _Stomach flu_.  The lie was on the tip of Clarke’s tongue, because if there was one person who didn’t deserve the truth from her, it was this wretched creature.  “Oh, you know, it was his real girlfriend’s prom tonight so he decided to take her.”  The words were out of her mouth before she decided to say them, and now there was no taking them back.  She braced for Bellamy’s derisive laughter and cursed herself for choosing this moment and this person for honesty.

Instead, Bellamy looked her straight in the eye and shook his head.  “What a dick,” he said forcefully.

“Where’s Echo?” Clarke asked to change the subject, because the way he was looking at her was making her...well, not uncomfortable.  But it felt weird.  Bellamy’s slightly-intimidating girlfriend didn’t really seem like the type to come to prom, but she also couldn’t imagine Bellamy without Echo suction-cupped to his mouth.  Practically the only time they weren’t making out was when he was antagonizing her, so this version of Bellamy—Echo-less and almost friendly—confused her.

“We fought, so she left.”

“What about?”

“What didn’t we fight about, more like it,” Bellamy said with a rueful laugh.  “My sister, me leaving for college in the fall, why I even wanted to come to prom, take your pick.”

“Why did you come?  It’s not really your scene,” Clarke pointed out.  She was the sort of person who cared about prom, the type that lettered in swimming and served as student body president and got up at seven in the morning to direct the decorations crew in putting crepe paper in the right places before getting her hair done.  But Bellamy and Echo were the type that were above it all, in that sort of effortless, I-don’t-care-about-your-stupid-high-school-rituals sort of way.  Clarke had lots of friends and was probably considered popular, but Bellamy and Echo were _cool._   There was a distinction between the two, and she was surprised Bellamy was here, in a tux with a boutonniere pinned to his lapel, instead of getting drunk in someone's basement with the other kids too cool for prom.

He shrugged with lazy grace.  “Felt like doing the high school thing one last time before graduation.  You know, memories.  That sort of shit.”

Clarke nodded, because somehow she understood.  Even if he was kind of an asshole, this life was all they knew.  And in a few months, it would be over and they would all be starting new lives somewhere else.  That was terrifying, and she was impressed that Mr. Above It All would even glancingly acknowledge it.  “Where did you decide to go?” she asked, because she knew Bellamy very well in some ways and not at all in the ways that counted.

“U of Arkadia.  It’s got a good history program and I can still come back and see O on the weekends if she lets me,” he said with a grin.

Clarke found herself smiling back.  “Me too.  Well, not because I can see Octavia on the weekends, but because of their pre-med program.”

“Not art?”

Clarke raised an eyebrow.  “How did you know I liked art?”

“Princess, everyone knows everything about you,” he said, but there wasn’t the usual venom in his tone when he called her that.  It was almost…fond.  More like teasing between friends instead of a barb between enemies.

“Well, art is fun and everything, but I’m gonna do pre-med,” she said, fighting to maintain control of her emotions.  Tonight was…a lot.  The song in the gym changed, and Nicki Minaj’s fast-paced lyricism was replaced by the twang of guitars and Ed Sheeran’s cheesy crooning, and Clarke was still standing near the dumpsters, smiling goofily at Bellamy Blake, her nemesis.  He looked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t.  “But U of Ark is a big school, so we won’t have to see each other,” she added, trying to regain her footing.

“That’s a shame,” he winked.  “Sometimes I like fighting with you.”

“Oh?  I didn’t realize you liked losing so much,” she volleyed back, somehow finding her footing on a totally different level than she intended.

Bellamy’s smile broadened and so did hers.  This was utterly ridiculous, but at least she didn’t feel like she was going to puke anymore.  Something almost like butterflies exploded in her stomach, but that was impossible, so she ignored them.  “I let you win,” Bellamy bantered.  “It would be boring if I was always right.”

Clarke scoffed, and when he took a step towards her she flinched back.  “What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

Bellamy rolled his eyes.  “I was just going to ask you to dance.”

“Why?” she asked.  Normally he treated her like a venomous snake, and his oddly sincere demeanor tonight plus her racing heart had her all kinds of confused.

“Because it’s your senior prom.  You’ve been looking forward to this shit for months.  You deserve at least one dance, even if it’s with your sworn enemy out by the dumpsters to the cheesiest song in the universe.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, but when he stepped closer this time she didn’t back away.  He took her hand in his and put his other arm around her waist, like they were _really_ dancing, not just the normal this-is-like-a-hug-but-with-swaying most people did at prom.

“This song is awful,” Clarke said past the sudden lump in her throat.

“Terrible.  The person who hired the DJ should be ashamed of herself,” he teased.

Clarke looked down to hid her smile, but that had the side effect of brushing her forehead against his chest.  Bellamy was solid and warm, and his arm tightened around her waist when she did that, so she gave in.  Tonight was officially the weirdest night of her life, but she was going to embrace it.  She rested her temple against his shoulder, his heart thumping reassuringly, and he brought his cheek down to press against the crown of her head.  “You deserved better, you know,” he said quietly.  “Finn’s….he’s a dick, for doing this to you.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, because it was getting difficult to talk for some reason.  “I’m—I’m sorry you and Echo fought.  She seems…nice.”

Bellamy snorted quietly.  “Nice.  Sure.  But thanks.”

Clarke closed her eyes and pretended the song playing was something other than this awful bullshit about loving someone until you’re seventy.  She pretended they were inside, surrounded by their friends, and she pretended that Bellamy didn’t usually hate her.  She wondered what high school would have been like if they’d become friends instead of enemies, and she wondered what it would be like to run into him on campus next fall.  He’d probably pretend not to see her and she would do the same, and the thought made her heart sink for some reason.

The song ended and Clarke broke the spell, stepping out of his arms.  Bellamy’s eyes were soft and she had to clear her throat twice before she could speak normally.  “Thanks,” she said sincerely.

“Any time,” he replied, equally sincerely.

“Does this mean we’ve struck a truce?”

“Not on your life,” he laughed, sounding more like the Bellamy she knew instead of...whoever he was tonight.  “I’ll kick your ass in the fourth amendment debate on Monday.”

“Bring it,” she challenged, but she was smiling and so was he.  She caught Kane’s eye at the door and realized her time out was probably up, so she headed back to the door before stopping and turning on her heel.  She walked over to Bellamy and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.  “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Anytime,” he said as she walked away.  “Anytime.”

  
  



	2. Two

Clarke pursed her lips and looked down into her red plastic cup, debating if another drink was in order.  It was graduation, after all, but the beer was pretty skunky.  She still hadn’t decided if she was ready for a refill when a dark mop of curly hair caught her eye and her heart did a strange little stutter step.  “You invited Bellamy?” she hissed at Wells, who was standing at her side.

 

Wells sighed.  “Of course I did.  We played soccer together freshman year.  I know you guys are like, nemeses, or whatever, but that’s between you and him not him and me.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go play host,” he said and slipped off into the mass of people.

 

Bellamy was standing at the fence around the pool, looking uncomfortable.  They hadn’t talked since prom— well, they’d argued in Kane’s class like always, but that didn’t really constitute talking— but what the hell, she was feeling...nostalgic.  Or something.  “This really doesn’t seem like your scene,” she called as she approached him and tossed her cup into a nearby trash can.

 

“I’m starting to think you don’t really know anything about my scene,” he snarked.  Ever since prom, their fights had been...softer, somehow.  And last week when Kane made them all take the final (even if they’d taken the AP test, which was really unfair of him and something Clarke had protested mightily), Bellamy finished ten minutes before her.  When he walked up the aisle to turn in his test he’d dropped his hand to her shoulder, just for a second.  It was like an acknowledgement between adversaries, his way of saying he appreciated the fight she’d put up, and when he turned to leave the classroom she’d caught his eye and gave him a half smile.  That was it until this moment, where they somehow slipped into banter, like they were old friends instead of enemies.

 

“Where’s Echo?” she asked, because she hadn’t seen them together much since prom.  Not that she’d been paying attention, or anything.

 

“Dumped my ass the day after prom,” he said, but he didn’t seem the slightest bit upset.  “You end things with Boyband?”

 

“His name is Finn,” she said primly.

 

“Fine.  You end things with Finn?” he said with an eyeroll.

 

“Of course I did.  I wouldn’t do that to another girl.”

 

“You wouldn’t, would you?” he said with something like wonder in his tone.  “Anyway, Wells invited me and I didn’t have anything else to do tonight, so...here I am.”

 

“Here you are,” she said with a crooked smile.

 

He nodded towards where Wells was helping people roll another keg out.  “I actually never pegged you for a partier, princess.”

 

“I party when the situation calls for it,” she sniffed, and he laughed out loud at that.

 

“Of course you fucking do,” he said, and his smile was so bright and genuine she had to look away.

 

“How’s Octavia handling you leaving for college?”  His sister was a safe subject; one entirely unlikely to set off the butterflies she was now experiencing.

 

He shrugged.  “She’s okay with it now, but I fully expect she’ll pick a stupid fight with me and refuse to speak to me the entire week before I leave.  How do you know O?”

 

Clarke knew Octavia because she was sneaking around with Lincoln, the quiet guy from Clarke’s ceramics class.  He had a reputation as a bad boy even though he was one of the kindest people Clarke had ever met, but Clarke decided she wouldn’t spill the beans.  She had a hunch Bellamy wouldn't take freshman Octavia dating a senior in stride.  “Everyone knows your sister,” she said instead, and fortunately, Bellamy bought it. She looked at him, with his messy curls and broad shoulders and that stupid smile that made her warm down to her toes, and decided that for once in her life, she was going to be impulsive.  “Follow me,” she ordered and moved toward the gate.

 

“Excuse me?” Bellamy asked with just a hint of challenge.

 

“I’ve got something to show you,” she sighed, and held open the gate.  Bellamy sent her a long, searching look before pushing himself off the fence and following her out.

 

“This is a trap, isn’t it?” Bellamy asked as they left the noise of the party behind.  “You’re luring me out to the woods to kill me.”

 

“Alas, you guessed my evil plan,” Clarke deadpanned and tromped through the underbrush towards their destination.

 

“Is this even still Jaha’s property?” he fussed.

 

“Relax.  They own ten acres back here, and this is pretty much my second home.  We’re still on their property, I swear.”

 

“Clarke—” he started, but Clarke shook her head because they’d arrived.

 

She leaned back against the tree and crooked a finger at him.  To her surprise he moved towards her like he was a man entranced.  “We’re here,” she said, and looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

 

Bellamy swallowed thickly and looked around.  “The middle of the woods.  Wow, this is really something,” he said sarcastically.

 

Clarke beckoned him closer and again he obeyed.  It gave her a rush, having that much power over him.  He was standing just inches away, the warmth she remembered from prom enveloping her.  Bellamy dipped his head down and his eyes flickered to her lips. “Are you going to kiss me or what?” she asked, and that was all it took.  His mouth crashed against hers and she tangled her hands in his hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.  Bellamy curved his hands around her waist and he pressed into her, their tongues dancing slowly.

 

“You know, you could have kissed me back at the party,” he murmured when they finally came up for air.  Clarke smirked and pointed up, following Bellamy’s gaze as he furrowed his brow and then saw it.  “A tree house?  That...doesn’t look safe.”

 

“It is, I swear,” she said, her hands slipping underneath his shirt to feel the warm skin of his back.

 

“And we’ll fit?”

 

“Probably not standing,” she grinned, and Bellamy swooped in to kiss her quickly.

 

“If it falls out of the sky, I’m blaming you,” he said and grabbed the rope ladder to start his way up.

 

Clarke waited until his legs disappeared to climb up, and when she emerged through the door Bellamy was sitting cross legged on the other side.  “See?  Plenty of space,” she teased and crawled over to him.  He stretched his legs out and she straddled him, her knees on other side of his hips.  “I can’t think of why you’d want any more space,” she breathed, and waited for him to lean in to kiss her before she tipped her head back, just out of his reach.

 

“I can think of a few reasons,” he growled and flipped them over, pinning her back to the floorboards.  He kissed her hard and she met him with equal passion, her legs twining around his waist and her back arching against him.

 

“I didn’t bring any condoms,” she gasped when he moved down to kiss her throat.

 

“That’s okay, I didn’t either,” he said against her skin, nosing aside her shirt to mouth kisses across her collarbone.  “I meant— we don’t have to have sex,” he clarified, stopping his progress.  “I didn’t—”

 

“It’s fine,” she said, eager for him to continue.  “I get it.  This wasn’t in the plan.”

 

“This is a good plan though.  Maybe the best plan,” he said, and in the dim light she could just make out his grin.  She speared her fingers through his hair and he palmed her breast through her shirt, making her moan.  Bellamy moved his hand down, twitching up the hem of her shirt, and skated his fingers up her ribcage.  He nibbled at her earlobe and nudged the cup of her bra out of the way so he could tweak her nipple with his fingertips,  Clarke pressed her center against his thigh, desperate for friction, and he dropped his hand to her jeans.  “Okay?” he asked, his eyes black.

 

“Definitely,” she grinned, and he popped the button deftly.  He parted her folds and waited until she groaned before he brought his thumb to her clit.  He sought out her lips just as he pushed one finger inside of her, and Clarke was so overwhelmed by sensations she could do nothing except hang on to him for dear life, letting his touch twist the coil of heat in her belly tighter and tighter until it came unspooled all at once, her walls clenching rhythmically around his finger and her lips emitting a soft sigh.

 

They rolled over and Clarke reached down for his waistband but he intercepted her, twining their fingers and bringing her hand to his lips.  “Maybe some other time,” he whispered and kissed her fingers sweetly.

 

She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to his heart pound.  His was beating as fast as hers, and she liked that she was the cause.  “Wells will kill me if he ever finds out,” Bellamy mused.  “Won’t he?”

 

“There’s like a fifty-fifty chance, yeah,” she laughed.  “But he’d probably be madder at me for sullying our tree house.”

 

“So...we should keep this between us?”  He sounded uncertain, and her heart twisted painfully.  Of course Bellamy wouldn’t want this to get out— he had a reputation to protect.  One that would be shot to hell if people found out he was hooking up with the town princess.

 

“I think that’s for the best,” she forced herself to say brightly, and as soon as the words were out, she felt better.  This would work for her too, now that she thought about it.  She had a reputation of sorts to maintain as well, and Bellamy didn’t really fit with it.  But they had great chemistry, and when they weren't deliberately antagonizing each other, she honestly enjoyed spending time with him.  “But that doesn’t mean it has to be a one time thing.  We can just...keep it quiet.”

 

“Just between us,” Bellamy agreed.

 

She lifted her head to look at him and smiled.  “Just us.  No one needs to know.”

 

For a moment, she thought something flashed in his eyes.  But then he smiled back at her and drew her up for a lazy kiss, so she told herself she imagined it.  Her summer plans just got a lot more complicated, but she couldn’t be happier about it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I cannot stop myself from doing: having Modern AU Bellamy call Finn Boyband.


	3. Three

“Bell’my!” Clarke slurred as she pounded on his door.  “Bell’my, I know you’re in there.”

 

Bellamy opened the door wearing raggedy sweatpants, a worn-t shirt, glasses, and an annoyed expression.  “It’s finals,” he grumped.

 

“For you.  I’m done.  Three years of college down, one to go,” she bragged and tripped across his threshold.  Officially, she was drunk and horny and what she  _ wanted _ was to get laid, so coming to Bellamy’s apartment was a dumb idea as that broke at least two of their rules (no drunk sex and no rebound sex) but halfway through her fourth gin and tonic with Raven (they had become fast friends after realizing they shared a dorm bathroom and an ex boyfriend) she realized she didn’t feel like celebrating the end of finals or being single again.  She felt like seeing Bellamy, so here she was.

 

“Well congratulations.  I still have a paper due in forty-eight hours.”

 

“So work on it.  I won’t stop you,” she said in a faux-attempt at breeziness.  She grabbed a beer stein from his cupboard and filled it all the way to the brim with water.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Nothing,” she lied and noisily slurped her water.

 

“Clarke,” he warned.

 

“Fine.  Lexa and I are done, but I’m fine okay?  I’m fine.  I’m  _ fine _ .”

 

“Are you fine?  If you have to say it five times?”

 

“I’m fine,” she said firmly.  “I was just out celebrating and I wanted to see you.”

 

Bellamy sighed and let her trail him to his living room, where he obligingly shifted his stacks of books until she had space to sit down.  His laptop was open on the coffee table and he tossed her the controller to his playstation so she could watch netflix, and Clarke cuddled down on the beat-up couch.  She picked an episode of Archer they’d seen half a dozen times before and split her attention between that and Bellamy.  “How much more do you have to write?” she asked.

 

He flipped through a few pages of a book on his lap.  “Five?  Probably five.  But then I still have to revise.”

 

“The rest of your finals are done though, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

Clarke rested her cheek on the back cushion and watched the TV with only mild interest for awhile.  Bellamy kept stealing glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say anything.  

 

The episode ended and the credits started to roll.  “Bellamy?”

 

“Yeah?” he asked without looking up.

 

“You’re my best friend,” she whispered.  “When did that happen?”

 

“I’m only going to ask this once more: are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” she said.  “I was just— I was out with Raven, and I realized, you’re my best friend.  And I couldn’t figure out how that happened.”  They’d spent the summer between high school sneaking around, fucking in the backseat of her car or quietly in his bedroom on nights his mother had to work late.  They both agreed to end it when college started in the fall, but then Thanksgiving break came around and they found themselves right back where they’d been in August, panting into each other’s mouths with need.

 

That was the start of a new phase in their relationship: sometimes-friends-with-sometimes-benefits.  If one of them started dating someone else, they ended things with no drama and resumed them once they were both single again, and over time they stopped always hooking up when they saw each other.  Sometimes they watched dumb movies together and sometimes they talked, but she hadn’t really considered him a friend.  Just...someone who knew her really, really well, whom she sometimes slept with.  Bellamy was the one who insisted on rules, which included “no super drunk sex” and “no sex for two months after a relationship ends,” which had been a late addition after he and Gina broke up.  He’d taken the breakup harder than Clarke thought he would, and she was secretly a little hurt by Gina’s coldness after.  She’d liked the social work major for her own sake, but maybe being friends with your sometimes-friend-with-sometimes-benefits’ ex was too tall of an order.  But she’d started dating Lexa before his post-relationship sex embargo ended, and now it had been well over a year since they’d been together and they still hung out regularly.  That had been something Lexa didn’t always like, even though Clarke had never told her the true origins of her friendship with Bellamy.

 

“Are you asking when we became actual friends?”  Bellamy asked.

 

“Yeah.”  She finished off her water with a gulp as the room continued still spinning ever so slightly.

 

“I’d say at some point in the last year,” he said.  “But you’re probably my best friend too, you know.”

 

“I won’t tell Miller,” Clarke stage whispered.

 

“And I won’t tell Raven,” he stage whispered back.  Clarke smiled softly and closed her suddenly-heavy eyes.  “You can sleep in my bed, if you want,” Bellamy offered.

 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.  “Just resting.”

 

When she next opened her eyes, the TV was off and Bellamy had his head tipped back against the couch, eyes closed and mouth open.  His laptop was still on but the screensaver was running, flashing green and purple lights across his face.

 

Clarke grabbed Miller’s stadium blanket from the recliner next to them and nudged Bellamy awake.  He opened his eyes blearily and shifted to his side to let her settle into his arms.  “I’m not applying to med school,” she confessed as his arms encircled her.

 

“Not ever?”

 

“No.  Lexa and I kept fighting about it— she thought I should do something real with my talents, but that life...I just can't see it for myself anymore.”

 

“Your art is real,” he murmured.

 

“Thank you,” she said and threw the blanket over their legs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to make this four chapters instead of three. Hope that's okay. ;)


	4. Four

“This is the dumbest theme party I’ve ever been to,” Bellamy grumbled.

 

“That’s because it’s the only theme party you’ve ever been to,” Clarke pointed out and lifted herself up onto Raven’s boyfriend’s counter.

 

“Still.  ‘Four years ago’ isn’t even a theme, it’s just a statement.”

 

“Not our fault you’re no fun, Blake,” Raven said as she pushed past him towards the keg.

 

“Cute.”

 

Clarke nudged him with her shoulder.  “Come on, it’s graduation.  Let yourself celebrate.”

 

He looked over at her and smiled, and Clarke bit her lip and looked away, suddenly overwhelmed with memories.  She had assumed they would resume their activities once Bellamy’s required two-month-mourning-period had passed and she was ready to move on from Lexa, but...they hadn’t.  After a few months Clarke stopped waiting for him to make a move and reconciled herself to just being his friend, and, well, it wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.  They’d both dated a little but nothing serious, and more often than not Clarke found herself wondering if...well, what she wondered was immaterial, because Bellamy clearly didn’t wonder about her.

 

“Where’s the boyfriend?” Bellamy asked Raven when she handed him a cup.

 

“This is even less of his scene than yours, so probably hiding upstairs.”  Raven had started dating an econ grad student about six months ago, and while Bellamy frequently muttered darkly about  _ Roan’s intentions, _  Clarke remembered all too well how poorly Bellamy had handled finding out about Octavia and Lincoln.  He got overprotective when he cared and didn’t know how to show it, and she was glad that he loved her roommate as much as she did.

 

“No really, what else goes with this theme other than songs from high school?” Bellamy prodded, and Raven rolled her eyes.

 

“Clarke, make him stop being so lame,” she pleaded.

 

“Bellamy, stop being lame,” Clarke teased.  

 

“Fine.  Then let’s go dance,” he said, moving between her legs and dropping his hands on her knees.  They still did this— the totally unnecessary touch thing— but Clarke chalked it up to how they began.  When you started as enemies and moved to fuck buddies, it made sense that once you transitioned into actual friends there might be some lingering weirdness.  Besides, she liked it.

 

“You?  Dance?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

 

“I dance.”

 

“This, I gotta see,” Raven said evilly and Clarke let Bellamy pull her from the counter and into Roan’s crowded living room.  Monty and Jasper were officially sharing DJ duties, but Monty currently had Miller pressed against a wall, which left Jasper’s dubious decision making abilities in charge.  Roan materialized from nowhere to drape his arm over Raven’s shoulders, and just then, the song switched to Ed Sheeran.

 

Clarke raised her eyebrows.  “Did you plan this?”

 

“Not on my life,” Bellamy swore.  “But what do you say?”

 

Clarke pulled him close and laughed as their friends started enthusiastically singing along, their voices swooping and soaring in an exaggerated version of the melody.  “Why did you follow me?” she asked.  “At prom?”  That was one thing she never quite understood.  They  _ hated _ each other back then.  It didn’t make sense.  Everything since then she could understand, but that moment— the moment when things changed— didn’t.

 

Bellamy looked away.  “Don’t laugh,” he said quietly.

 

“Well, no promises,” she teased, and his hand on her lower back flexed.

 

“I...I sort of...had a thing for you.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, I know,” he said sheepishly.  “I had a crush and I was the worst about it.”

 

“You were basically pulling my pigtails,” she laughed.  “I thought you were better than that sort of misogynistic bullshit.”

 

“I know, I know, but I’ve gotten better, I swear,” he said ruefully, but he was laughing too.  And then suddenly, everything fell into place.  Every moment they’d spent in each other’s presence took on a different color, now that she knew how it began, and her lungs stopped working.  Clarke had never had a moment of clarity so stark, and she had to stop swaying in Bellamy’s arms and remind herself to breathe.  “You okay?”  Bellamy’s eyes were dark and concerned, and then the room stopped spinning and everything came into focus all at once.

 

“Yeah,” she said, and took his face in her hands and kissed him.  Bellamy didn’t respond at first, his lips frozen, but then he was pulling her close and kissing her like they’d never kissed before, like he was drowning and she was his air.  Their friends erupted into cheers and catcalls, and Bellamy’s hand briefly left her waist to flip them all off, but then he wrapped his arms so tightly around her it was like he never wanted to let her go.  “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered against his lips, and he nodded eagerly.

 

Bellamy grabbed her hand and towed her out of the living room while their friends laughed, and the second they emerged onto Roan’s lawn he pulled her close and kissed her again.  “Your place or mine?” he asked between kisses.

 

“Yours is closer,” Clarke pointed out, and Bellamy laughed happily.  

 

They practically ran to his apartment, stopping to kiss at every street corner.  Clarke was deliriously happy, and she nearly ripped Bellamy’s shirt off when he kicked the door to his apartment closed.  They were racing each other as they shed their clothes, mouths searching out each sliver of exposed skin in a mad dash for his bedroom.  By the time he pushed inside of her, Clarke’s cheeks ached from smiling, and Bellamy dipped his head to kiss her even as he smiled too.  His thrusts were fast and needy and Clarke met him with desperation, because this— him, her, together— made sense and it always had, she’d just been too blind to see it.

 

Bellamy came with a cry just after she did, and he buried his face in her neck, panting.  “What just happened?” he asked, still breathless.

 

“We had sex,” she laughed.

 

Bellamy snorted and rolled over to his side and she mirrored him, tucking her hand under the pillow.  “Yeah, but— what changed?” he asked and tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear so tenderly her heart lurched.

 

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I just— I realized what we’d had all along and I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

 

“So all it took was me admitting I had a crush on you four years ago?  Shit, if I’d known that I would have told you years ago,” he said with a sweet smile.

 

“I think— I never knew you could see me like that,” Clarke admitted.  “I always thought that what we had, it was just, I don’t know, just physical or something.  And when I realized it was possible for you to want more, I just— I realized what I wanted.  And that’s you.”

 

“I want you too,” he said, his voice hoarse, and Clarke leaned across the pillows to kiss him.  

 

Clarke’s phone buzzed with a text, and then four more in rapid succession.  “We went public in a big way, didn’t we?” she said, scrunching up her nose.

 

“We did,” Bellamy agreed.  “But I don’t give a damn.”

 

Clarke climbed over him and his hands came up to hold her waist.  She had always loved how he did that, how he was so attuned to her at all times.  She never wanted to leave his bed, so she ducked her head down and kissed him again. Their friends would be demanding answers, but they could wait.

 

Right now, she and Bellamy had a lot of lost time to make up for, and she didn’t intend to waste a second.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Bellamy was definitely quoting 10 Things I Hate About You to Clarke when he called prom an Antiquated Mating Ritual. (And my apologies to Ed Sheeran for the trashing of "Thinking Out Loud." I like that song, but it is kiiiiinda cheesy and I think High School!bellarke would feel that is an unforgivable sin.)


End file.
